


Zimmer 483

by princesskay



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Anal Fingering, And Tom just reaps the benefits, Bill is a narcassist, Blowjobs, Facials, M/M, PWP, Semi-Public Sex, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1364605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill can't help but feel the need to perform, when someone is screaming his name . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zimmer 483

It was in Spain, the summer of 2007 that we created most of the tracks for our new album, Zimmer 483. Though we were on vacation, the location seemed to be the perfect spot to create new music and relax in between the rehearsals. We stayed at a pretty little bungalow that was surrounded outside by a lovely garden. In the mornings, I would awake with the window by my bed open, the smells of blooming flowers and the sound of birds singing gently lolling me awake. There was something quite special about that bungalow; it was like something out of a dream, or one long, wonderful trip; surreal, in more ideal words. I can remember never wanting to leave, nearly crying as I looked through the back window to watch our beloved home for the summer receding into the distance.

Later, in a closed interview, Tom described zimmer 483 as “really hazy and always without daylight.” Those words were perfect to describe the long, lazy days spent in the Spanish bungalow, writing whatever tune came into our minds, or drifting in and out of consciousness on the couch, entangled in the arms and legs of our languishing bandmates. The curtains were nearly always drawn, cutting us off from the real world, so that we could build a world that was all our own, full of music, love and laughter.

But what I most recall about that vacation in Spain was the times Tom and I spent together. We were sixteen at the time, hardly out of adolescence, and running high on testosterone and desire. The dreamy, often unreal setting of the bungalow only increased need and hazy desire muddled in or sleepy brains. We were hot for each other, crawling into the other's bed at night, hands searching for naked flesh, or tumbling into a nearby closet or bathroom, out of sight of the others. My sexuality awakened at it's most intense point that summer; I was insatiable, and Tom was more than willing to give in return.

One afternoon, we were in my bedroom, making out on the bed, just getting ready to really go at it, when the sound of screaming shattered our little bubble of need. Tom's mouth pulled away from mine; he was frowning like a storm cloud, really pissed off to be interrupted.

“Ohh,” I sighed, clapping a hand to my forehead, “It sounds like some fans found out where we're at.”

It had happened before, but security always took care of it. We were strict about the fact that we were not moving to a different bungalow. 483 was important to us, nearly an intricate part of our creative process by this point.

Tom sauntered to the French doors that led out to the balcony and pulled the curtain back just far enough to see to street level. He gave a growl of frustration, “Yep. There's a group of about ten.”

I convinced my languid limbs to stiffen up and get me off the bed. I was half-hard under my jeans, just achy enough to make persuade me to go get Tom back onto the bed. I slid up behind him, wrapping my arms around his middle. Pressing my cheek to his shoulder, I murmured, “Let's just keep going. Maybe they'll go away . ..”

“No, they won't. They'll stay all night to get just one glimpse.” Tom shook his head, and snorted in disbelief.

I chewed my lower lip, considering our position. In all likelihood, if we went to get Saki now, there would be quite a debacle with the fangirls below, and I would never get sex until hours later. I didn't want to wait; I was horny and ready to go now, and I was going to get my orgasm, fangirls outside or no fangirls.

Tom sighed loudly and pulled out of my grasp, “Come on. Let's go get Saki.”

“Tom, wait.” I caught onto his fingertips, pulling him to a stop, “They're not hurting anything.”

A frown flickered across Tom's brow, “We want our privacy, Bill. . .”

I shrugged and cast big eyes in his direction, “They're screaming for us, Tomi.”

He took a step closer, cocking his head to one side in curiosity.

I reached out and tugged the balcony doors open, letting the screams seep to full volume into the bedroom. Warm, summer air caressed my skin, and I gave a shudder. I knew, already, it was going to be good.

“Bill, what. . .?” Tom began, confused.

Leaving the balcony doors open, I took his hand and led us back to the waiting bed. I dropped a hand to my belt buckle and slowly tugged it open. I glanced up at him coyly, biting softly at my lower lip, “Suck me, Tomi?”

He gave a needy grunt, then glanced back at the open doors.

I caught his chin in my hand and turned his gaze back on mine, “It turns me on.” I whispered, pressing my hips against his, “Hearing them scream like that. . .”

He swallowed hard, his nostrils flaring, “Bill, I don't know if. . .”

“They'll never hear over their own racket.” I murmured, then gave a shrug, “I think they're screaming for you to suck me, Tomi.”

His tongue fretted across his lower lip, pausing to toy with his lip ring. The sight of his moist, pink tongue flicking across the metal ring gave me a shudder that reached down to my core. I felt myself twitch against the hot press of his body and released a moan, “Please, I don't know if I can stand it much longer.”

He clenched his jaw, then let out a growl, almost frustrated, but too needy.

“Fuck it.” He muttered, his fingers lacing into my hair to drag me forward.

Our lips clashed, hotter than before the interruption, lips and tongues searching out the other's, so horny we were barely kissing properly, just rubbing together, sucking, spreading saliva everywhere. I clung to him, grinding our crotches together, so hard I could feel him throbbing through the baggy fabric of his jeans.

With a grunt, he pushed me to the bed. Our lips parted and he was on me instantly, dragging my jeans and boxers down in one swift tug. I gasped aloud as my cock sprang free of the material, slapping hard and throbbing against my stomach. Tom approached, stripping of his shirt and jeans. I gazed up at him in awe, my eyes taking in every line of muscle, every toned and tanned inch, and most of all the hard lump straining against his boxers.

“Oh. . . oh .. .”

All I could do was moan as he knelt down between my legs and forced my already compliant thighs even farther apart. My tight groin screamed in pleasure as he stretched me open, leaving me entirely vulnerable to his touch.

“You want me to suck you?” He questioned, determined to wring another plea from my lips.

I nodded eagerly, urging my hips up with the offering of my hard, red dick.

“Say it.” He murmured, one thumb stroking across my inner thigh, too close to my crotch.

“Please. . .”I moaned, my whole body quivering with lust, “S-suck me, Tomi. . .”

His hand lingered on my thigh for only a moment longer before sliding up to circle around the base of my engorged manhood. I rose from the bed, a low cry wavering from my throat, “God, please . . .”

He leaned forward, his bound dreadlocks swinging over one shoulder as his mouth caressed my cockhead. It was just a brush of his full lips, his piercing chafing, cold and metallic, against my aching skin. I grasped at the sheets, my face already twisting in intense pleasure. One hand rushed downward to grab at his hair, dragging his mouth closer. He went slowly, though I pulled hard on his dreads, his mouth parting to send a hot gust of hair across my throbbing skin. I panted louder, thrusting my hips determinedly toward his mouth.

Tom grabbed me by the hips and slammed me back down against the mattress, drawing a shocked cry from my lips. I looked down at him, my eyes round, my face completely flushed, but he was already concentrated on my aching, pulsing dick once more. His fingers circled around the shaft, giving it a slow pull as his mouth came down, surrounding just the head. I squirmed, suppressing louder groans.

A sharp scream from below the balcony jolted me.

“Bill! Bill!”

The girl's voice was high-pitched and exhilarated. She was screaming my name, wanting me.

My eyes rolled back in my head and I lapsed against the sheets as the equally strong forces of Tom's mouth and that fangirl's desperate screams descended on my overwrought body. Tom's lips were hot and wet, sucking me in, slowly taking in each inch of flesh with precision. I writhed weakly, hands pawing at his hair, hips straining upward. His mouth tightened around me, adding sweet pressure that made me feel as if I were about to explode.

“Tom, Tom. . .” I panted, squeezing my eyes shut as pleasure rose like a wave inside me.

I was arching from the bed, my body eagerly accepting the incoming climax when Tom's lips pulled back, releasing my dick with a wet, popping noise. With a gasp, my eyes flew open and I groped for my grasp on Tom's hair, which had slipped somewhere in the few seconds in which I thought I would climax.

Tom's face hovered near my dick, but his lips didn't take me back in. His hand glided up the shaft and his thumb began to toy with the head, stroking foreskin back and forth as I moaned in pleasure and building, needy agony. My groin pulsed with the need to come, and the skin of my cock ached as it stretched to accommodate the needy size of my erection. I wanted to come so badly; Tom's kisses and stroking had been enough, but the added sound of the fangirls below just made me go crazy. I was humming with energy and need. I wanted to get up off this bed and perform for them, perform for Tom. I wanted Tom to throw me down and fuck me while their greedy, desperate hands groped at my naked body. I wanted them all screaming my name as my cum painted their faces.

“Tom, please!” I burst out, at last, unable to handle his gentle stroking anymore, “Please, oh God, I need it!”

His mouth tilted to one side in an amused smile. His hand drifted away from my cockhead, only to travel down the shaft and cup my balls in a tight embrace. I bit down hard on my lower lip to quell a sharp cry. Tom's fingers were firm and warm, massaging me, rolling my aching balls around in his agile grasp. I could hardly breathe; just flopped around on the bed like a beached fish, unable to writhe very far without feeling the strain on my imprisoned balls. Then his mouth came down, and I was bucking against his face, my fingers tight around his hair, nails digging into his scalp. My mouth was open, but I couldn't scream, couldn't breathe, couldn't form one intelligible word.

The screeching fans outside the bungalow were now background noise, a choppy, distorted symphony playing like a soundtrack to my pleasure. They were there, urging my pleasure onward, but it was Tom's mouth, Tom's wicked fingers that ushered me through the doors, straight to the chamber of pleasure. He tapped into the very core of me, the place that needed – that _ached_ for – it the most, and drew it out like poison, sucking me the depths of his throat. I came then, my body jerking and spasming uncontrollably, fucking his face with wild abandon that he easily absorbed. His fingers were firm on my hips, controlling my spastic movements just enough to keep himself from choking on the long, hard length of my streaming dick. I felt my cum swell in his mouth and spill out, dribbling down his lower lip and chin, so much that he couldn't swallow fast enough to catch it all. 

As the climax descended, I sank to the mattress, my limbs like jelly. I felt as if I were floating on a gravity-defying sea of bliss, entirely drained of energy. 

Tom rose from between my legs, wiping cum from his chin and neck. 

“They're still screaming.” He murmured, his voice rough from the way my cock had fucked his throat. 

“Mmm. . .” I gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes, dazed. 

“I think I know what they're screaming for next.” He added, stroking my flushed cheekbone with the backs of his fingers. 

“Do you?” He asked, tilting my head to one side. 

He nodded, his dark brown eyes flashing with need, “They want me to fuck you.” 

My heart jolted in my chest, his words chasing away the powerless, sleepy state the orgasm had left me in. 

I tuned my ears to the rising shouts of the girls on the street below us, then nodded, “I think so too.” 

With a pleased smile, he rose from the bed and went to the drawer where I kept the lube hidden. It was in a dark, unmarked bottle, but I still kept it well-hidden to avoid awkward questions. Tom's hand quickly excavated it from the pile of socks and boxers in the top drawer. He carried it back to the bed, where I was already rolling onto my stomach. 

He knelt behind me, giving my ass a slap, “Spread.” 

I quickly parted my legs and dug my knees into the mattress, arching my ass up for him. He laid a hand on one ass cheek, his thumb dipping in to spread me open while the other hand administered the lube. I gasped as the cold, wet lube touched my hot, quivering skin, followed by the press of Tom's calloused fingers, guiding the lube around my hole. He stroked there for several long moments, persuading my tight, shuddering muscles to relax. I moaned, pressing my face into the pillow and urging my hips back, begging him to move faster. I could already imagine his big, hard dick inside me, rubbing us both to completion. I didn't want to wait through prep. 

“Tom, please. . .” I whined quietly. 

He pressed one finger forward into the clenching heat of my ass, spearing to the knuckle with the first penetration. I arched forward, whimpering louder. I loved how it felt when he first touched me like this, when my body was still so tight and unprepared. It chafed, and ached, and felt almost as good as dick. 

“Tom, yes. . .” I cried, pushing back against the thrust of his hand. 

His fingers tightened on my ass cheek, stretching me open to watch his finger entering my pink, little hole. He let out a groan of pleasure and added another finger, pressing me open wider before my body was ready. I thrashed, feeling my whole body quiver as his two fingers knifed in, twisting back and forth to work my hole open faster. 

“Tom, please, please. . .” I whined, my nails tearing at the sheets. 

He pulled my hips back toward his hand as I arched into the mattress. He fed me another finger, pressing all three in deep. He leaned over my sharply curved back and growled in my ear, “Take them, Bill.” 

“No, please. . .” I groaned. 

I was aching for his cock. I wanted him to fuck me into the bed, take me so hard I screamed just like those fangirls. But he was just set on torturing my tight, needy ass before he put his cock in.

He slammed his fingers in hard, making my body lurch into the sheets.

“Yeah, take them all.” He panted, exhilarated and lustful.

“Tom, pleeeease. . .” I begged, squirming against the sheets, trying to get away.

He reeled me back in again, impaling my wiggling ass on his fingers. I gasped and arched back against him. He hit my prostate, hit it so good I felt my whole body become washed in tiny needles of pleasure.

“Oh God, oh God. . .”I panted, breathlessly, rotating my hips to guide his fingers back to my spot.

He struck at the swollen, aching flesh again and again, pushing the pleasure to new heights, until it wavered just at the line of pleasure, and I was gasping and choking on my own saliva, pleading him for real now.

The air rushed back into my lungs when he withdrew his fingers. I lay weakly against the sheets, my body thrumming and singing with the stimulation, aching for him to fill the place that was suddenly empty again.

He knelt behind me, lubing his cock with quick, firm pumps of his hand. He stroked himself longer than necessary, pleasuring himself to full length. Grasping me by the hips, he pulled me up.

“On your hands and knees.” He ordered, huskily.

I struggled to get my noodle-like limbs under myself. He was already pressing his hard cock up against my entrance before I was completely stable. I could feel the waves of eagerness and desire running off of him, just as worked up as I had been before he completely drained me with his mouth.

With a firm push, he penetrated me with his big, throbbing dick. My body immediately clenched around him, but I forced himself to relax, take it all the way.

He released a low groan of pleasure, “Oh my God, Bill. . .”

“Yes, Tom!” I replied, pushing my hips back against the hard pressure of his cock.

He pulled out and came at me again, this time thrusting in completely. His hips seated themselves firmly against my ass, and he ground against me, driving at my prostate. I cried out and felt my arms already beginning to quiver.

Tom started at a quick, steady pace, rocking his hips against me while keeping a firm grasp on my waist. Our bodies smacked together in a wonderful, erotic rhythm, filling me up with his cock each time. I curled my fingers around the sheets, trying to keep myself stable while he was fucking all the strength right out of me. My arms were shaking, the muscles unable to hold my weight, not much by any standards, but _too much_ when so full and bursting with pleasure. 

When my arms gave out only moments into the encounter, Tom simply took advantage of the stepper angle and screwed into me harder. My face encountered the sheets as his hard thrusts hastened my fall. I grasped for something to hold onto, found the edge of the mattress and curled my fingers around the springs, so tight it hurt. Tom's thrusts came hard and unrelenting, pressing up against my pleasure spot every time. It was like pressing a button inside me that released a fresh surge of need and found the trigger to make me come all over again. I was hard, achingly so, and I knew I needed to cum again. I  _had_ to. 

A sharp scream from below cut through the pleasured haze clouding my brain. This time, they were screaming for my brother. 

“Tom! Tom! Tom!” 

I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him, and nearly fainted at the sight of his perfect, lean body all gleaming with sweat and thrusting into me. His face was etched with pleasure, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration. The band around his dreads was coming loose, allowing a few strands to slip free against his cheek. 

“Yes, Tom. . .” I choked out, matching the high-pitched quality of the fangirl's voice, “Yes, fuck me harder.” 

He slammed hard against me, gasping out, “Oh my God!” 

“Yes, Tom! Tom, oh, Tom!” I chanted, my breathy pleas overtaking the screaming girl. 

His fingers squeezed my hips tight enough to bruise and he began to slam into me harder, hard enough to make the bed springs protest. My ass clamped down around his dick, my whole insides quivering as the pleasure snared me in it's grasp. I was on the verge of climax; I just needed him to hit at my prostate a few more times and I would be done. 

I gasped aloud, clawing at the sheets when he suddenly pulled out, leaving me achingly empty. 

“Tom!” I began to complain as the intense urge to come slowly slipped away. 

He slipped me onto my back and lifted my my legs in the air. Ignoring my complaints, he slung my legs over his shoulders and pressed back into me. My hands flailed against the sheets, looking for traction when I had hardly any control. All I could do was lie under him, feeling his cock nailing me hard while the pleasure rushed in even faster than before. 

“Tom, Tom. . .” I panted, hardly able to draw a proper breath. 

“Wanna see your face. . .” He replied, his voice ragged, “Wanna see when you come. . .” 

I moaned pitifully as he drove at my prostate, quick, rapid-fire hip thrusts that kept his dick battering that spot mercilessly. My body writhed helplessly, all the muscles jumping and twitching of their own accord, the ones deep down inside clenched hard with anticipation. 

Tom's hands petted down my thighs before one eagerly encircled my cock, finding the flesh hard and throbbing. I was dripping pre-cum at the tip, showing him just how much I needed the climax. 

“Yes, Tom. . .” I moaned, trying to arch my hips up against him. 

His fingers tightened down on my dick, pulling and stroking relentlessly while his cock went in deep. I pried my eyes open to see his face, and found him gazing down at me through squinted eyes that wanted to close in pleasure. His face was the portrait of pleasure, all flushed and twisted, lips parted, brow damp with sweat. I could hear him panting loudly, and recognized the sounds he made right before he came. 

My eyes closed one more as his fingers twisted around my cock, setting off the pleasure deep in my groin. I went stiff against him, all my muscles clamping down at once. The pleasure came swiftly once more, nearly taking me by surprise this time because it was so damn fast. My legs kicked uselessly above my head and my fingers grasped at the sheets. My back arched sharply, pushing my ass even harder against him, taking him fully as he, too, lost himself to the pleasure. Cum spurted from my dick and poured down my stomach. I could feel it dribbling across my chest and pooling at my neck, thick, hot, and sticky. Moments later, I felt him release inside of me, shooting his load down my ass in hot, plentiful streams. I moaned though my own climax was over, enjoying the special way I was branded as his. 

We sank to the sheets, breathing hard. I slowly came back to reality, noticed that the birds were still singing, that it had gotten terribly hot in the room, and just how fucking loud those fangirls really were. 

Tom pulled me to his side and planted a firm kiss on my forehead, “You are a narcissist, Bibi.” He chuckled. 

“What?” I blushed, turning my face away. 

“Getting off to the sound of your own name.” He snorted and laughed harder. 

I frowned up at him, “So were you.” 

“Yes, when  _you_ were screaming it.” 

I elbowed him in the side and rose from the bed. I got up too fast and felt my legs immediately start to shake. Steadying myself with one hand on the dresser, I held my head up high and strode to the French doors. I shut them firmly, cutting off the sound of the girls. 

“How about that?” 

“Maybe we should just go get Saki to get rid of them.” Tom said, “Like I suggested from the beginning.” 

“Don't lie. You liked it.” He replied, crossing my arms, “Besides, it could be hours by the time he gets rid of them and we get our privacy back. . .” 

He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. I could see his dick was already agreeing with me. 

I sauntered back to the bed and flopped down next to him, turning on my best pouting face, “I'm still hungry, Tomi.” 

He made a disgusted face, “Why can I never say 'no' to you?” 

I bit back a smile and scooted closer to him. My hand quested down his body, making gentle contact with his still sensitive dick. He drew in a sharp breath and instinctively arched his hips toward my stroking hand. 

“I'll suck it for you. . .” I murmured, suggestively. 

Of course, he quickly caved and let me go on. . .and on. . .and on. 

It was only one of the many wonderful times we had together in Zimmer 483. When I think back on that bungalow, I remember it not as days and nights, but as a blur of hazy afternoons where our intercourse most often took place. I remember it as a dream, a beautiful, wonderful dream. And someday, I'd really like to go back there. . .

 

the end 

 


End file.
